


Run Boy Run

by ImGhostProofBaby



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Buzzfeed, Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, Criminal Ricky Goldsworth, Might be slow burn, Serial Killer Ricky Goldsworth, before social media was a big thing, but tinsworth is okay, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, cc tinsley - Freeform, i don’t ship shyan, not sure yet - Freeform, ricky goldsworth - Freeform, set mostly in modern times but not 2020, tinsworth eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24975877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGhostProofBaby/pseuds/ImGhostProofBaby
Summary: Ricky Goldsworth is on the run.CC Tinsley is tired of being seen as a failure.When two unlikely worlds collide, sometimes futures can change.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Run Boy Run

CC Tinsley was a detective known for one thing: his inability to finish the case of the Sodder Family.

Though he was a tall man, around 6’4” or so, he was about as intimidating as a pet store hermit crab. And, much like a hermit crab, he preferred to stay in his own little shell while others were around. It was difficult for him to go unnoticed with long hands and even longer legs, and this difficulty is what caught the eye of one Ricky Goldsworth.

Ricky, as opposed to CC, was more in the average range of height. One would guess somewhere in between 5’9” and 5’10”, though he’d claim to be closer to the latter. His height had no effect on his ability to be intimidating in comparison to the detective. Ricky’s muscular form and commanding voice were all he needed to have people following his orders. 

The Goldsworth family as a whole had been a group of ruthless killers, though they rarely left behind any trace at the scene of their crimes. A lack of evidence didn’t matter to CC one way or another, he was generally very certain of the culprit. With only one remaining member of the family, all Goldsworth-related crimes would point to one man: Ricky.

He wasn’t an easy man to catch by any means. He was good at what he did, and he did it often. He never stayed in one place too long so as to avoid arrest, although many officers feared arresting him in the first place, knowing how quickly they could become one of many Goldsworth victims before they’d even have a chance to put him in handcuffs.

Tinsley himself wasn’t an avid fan of the police system as a whole, but even he agreed that the lives lost were still human. Much to his own shame, he never really spoke out about issues within the system. He was a quiet man, and it was his belief that a quiet man makes no enemies. Whether that was a true statement or not he had yet to discover. Unfortunately for him, a quiet man also tends to make no friends. At least, that was true in his case.

Yes, CC spent his time alone. He enjoyed the companionship of his cat, Orange Juice, or OJ for short. How fitting for his cat to have an acronym for a name when her owner had an acronym for his. Much like CC, OJ was a very lanky animal, with long legs and tall ears, resembling the closest to an Oriental Shorthair. Despite the odd look of the animal, CC loved her to death, and she reciprocated through nighttime cuddles and giving him (usually unwanted, due to her unappealing breath) baths with her rough tongue.

It was this cat that caught Ricky’s eye as he strolled down the worn down street that CC’s apartment sat on. She was sitting by the window a few floors up, looking down at the people below with disapproval, as most cats tend to do. 

Ricky had never cared much for cats. He found them cold and unwelcoming, not too much unlike himself. He didn’t have the ability to care for one anyway, with all his moving around, and that was probably for the best. That wasn’t to say he disliked cats, they just weren’t his pet of choice.

Regardless, whether or not he liked cats was not what Ricky was thinking about as he passed the brick apartment building. No, he was thinking about where to find himself a decent meal. 

See, Ricky had been on the run for the last good week or so, and he hadn’t dared to stop for long. Though he was careful with his work, he liked to put distance between himself and the police force whenever possible, traveling far enough away that the next place he visited wouldn’t have heard of what he had done prior. And thus, a nice burger was what was on his mind. 

Thankfully, a bar and grill restaurant wasn’t difficult to find, and he stepped inside. He was greeted by the sounds of chatting patrons and a quieter sound of whatever sports team was playing over the TV. It looked like American football, but Ricky didn’t care nearly enough to watch long enough to find out.

He sat himself down at a table and drummed his fingers on the top, feeling his stomach grumble with impatience. It didn’t take long for a waitress to find him sitting there, much to Ricky’s delight.

“What can I get for you?” she asked, giving him a smile.

“Just a hamburger is fine, no onions. Oh, and a Bud Lite, if you’ve got it.”

“Sure thing, that’ll be right out for you shortly.”

Bud Lite wasn’t very good in terms of beer, but he wasn’t very picky with his alcohol when he was in the need for it. It had been a while since he found a city that didn’t have wanted posters with his face plastered on the walls of buildings and tacked onto sign posts, and so he felt he deserved a drink. 

No amount of alcohol could distract him from the outrageously tall man who had just pushed through the doors. The stranger kept his head tilted down as he lumbered over to a table of his own not too far from Ricky. 

_ A miracle he can fit those legs of his underneath that table _ _,_ Ricky thought to himself.  _ I do not envy his mother. He must’ve been one tall baby. _

But, fit his legs under the table that stranger did. It appeared to Ricky to be a tight squeeze, but nonetheless, it was done. The waitress that had taken Ricky’s order brought out his beer, then took a few steps over to the side and asked the stranger what he wanted. Ricky tuned them both out, instead focusing his attention on two young men playing pool across the room. It was hard to tell who was winning from where he was sitting, but he could judge their faces well enough to sort of figure it out. 

A short time passed and the pool game had finished when the waitress set a plate down in front of Ricky. He swiveled slightly in his chair to enjoy his meal when he noticed that he definitely had not ordered chicken.

“Excuse me, miss, but I ordered a hamburger,” he said before she could turn to walk away.

“And I ordered the chicken,” came the voice of the stranger beside him.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry you two, I’ll swap those for you here real quick,” she said, her face flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s no problem,” said his table neighbor as the waitress switched the plates.

“You two enjoy your meals.” With that, she hurried off to whatever other business she had to attend to.

“Thank you for speaking up first,” the stranger practically mumbled. It was a miracle Ricky could hear him at all.

“Well, I came for a burger, not for chicken. I had to say something,” he answered with a shrug, taking a bite and wiping off the ketchup that dropped on his hand with a napkin.

The man merely nodded before turning back to his own meal, taking great care to cut the food carefully as if he was afraid of hurting something that was already dead and cooked. Ricky shook his head, not understanding how anyone could have that much patience with food, and continued on with his burger. Deep down he was thankful that the man hadn’t recognized him before he could finish eating. He wasn’t ready to start running again quite yet, and he hoped for at least a few days of peace before he had to satisfy his urge to continue his list of victims. 

Perhaps he’d go for the waitress, though her mix up had been a mistake, albeit a careless one. She seemed young, probably around 30 or so. He shook his head again. He could think about that another time. Food now, a nice relaxing murder later.


End file.
